A few times on my blog, I mentioned my going to a childcare placement on my Saturday mornings. I spoke about it during my first weekly rewind, noting it as an incredible experience that I promised to elaborate on later. The following Saturday I went there again, and explained my frustration and complicated feelings about watching donors unevenly distribute shoes to the children there. And while now I do not always mention it in my weekly rewind posts, I still go there from time to time, wanting to again volunteer with a truly noble cause.

A country with extreme levels of poverty and wealth inequality, too often children in Cambodia are hungry and malnourished. Without proper nourishment, children become vulnerable to developmental problems and poor health. In a desperation to find food, children in these circumstances may beg on the streets or scavenge through garbage piles to find something to eat.

Les Restaurants Des Enfants (LRDE) began in 2010 with a simple, but honorable mission: to provide free food to Cambodian children in need. It provides daily hot meals, in addition to a place where children can be showered, get haircuts, and find clean clothes if needed. While a small staff keeps the operation running, it welcomes the support of volunteers to come and help serve food, wash, and play with the children.

LRDE runs largely off donations and the support of volunteers. With less than one dollar, it is able to feed one child and provide it with the nutrition and energy needed to start the day clean, with a full belly, and a strong spirit. Over the past few years, it has given more than four hundred thousand meals to the children of Phnom Penh, Cambodia.

The time I spent volunteering there, I peeled cucumbers, chopped meat, served rice, poured soup, played basketball, chased smiling little girls, and received more hugs than I can count. I was welcomed by the staff and children alike, overwhelmed by the amount of kindness and love given away from people who barely knew me and who had so little.

Whether to somehow reach someone with the ability to donate, or simple to spread the word, I wanted to share my experiences at LRDE to do what I can to help raise more awareness about this incredible cause. If you would like to know more about how you can help, please check out the LRDE website and Facebook, or feel free to contact me for more information.

The past two weeks came and went so quickly that, despite all my good intentions, I failed to post about their events in a timely manner. I would apologize, but as I continually mention when moments such as these happen; I would rather live and experience everything going on around me, than pause to write about them. Sorry if that is not exactly what you, dear reader, wanted to hear. However, look on the bright side: the post is here! Relax, be merry, and let your eyes feast upon the following slew of words that are my fifth and sixth week in the Kingdom of Wonder.

The Highs

Where do I even begin? What a stupid question. Seeing the elephants in Mondulkiri; obviously one of the most incredible moments in the past two weeks. While I originally held some reservations against standing face to face with the magnificent creatures, afraid of being squashed or something else ridiculous in hindsight, I found myself staring at them in awe. No reason to be afraid and nothing but excitement coursing through my veins. I felt like an explorer, like a professional travel writer from National Geographic, like someone whose wildest dreams just came true! I wrote an entire blog post dedicated to my sheer bliss from seeing the elephants, so take a look at that if you somehow missed it.

Fulfilling childhood dreams

Apart from walking with my favorite animal in all the world, staying at the Nature Lodge in Mondulkiri was also fantastic. For quite some time, the idea of sleeping over in a tree house seemed magical and peaceful. I thought it would be something far out of reach, as many of the tree house vacation homes nearby me in California were too far out of budget. However, with Cambodia’s low cost of living I could finally live out another dream of mine. Sleeping in a “tree house,” (more a jungle bungalow than a tree house to be honest, but it felt enough lie a tree house to me) was relaxing and whimsical. I felt connected with the nature surrounding me, and it was beyond nice to get away from the hustle and bustle of Phnom Penh. Sitting with my book in a hammock, listening to cicadas and crickets; it was truly wonderful.

Rewinding back from the weekend adventures, this week I also began volunteering at my new NGO placement! I will admit, I was very nervous to begin volunteering there. While I knew that I wanted to volunteer with NGOs, they were supposed to be my career goals after all, that gave some sort of odd pressure. What if I didn’t like it? Would that put my entire life’s purpose into question? Luckily, so far I have not had to worry about these questions, as I have really enjoyed volunteering. The NGO I am placed with is called Youth Council of Cambodia, or YCC, and they work to empower youth and encourage them to participate in the advocation of democracy, good governance, human rights and other issues for the peaceful and sustainable development of Cambodia. Being part of this organization is inspiring and educational. I am learning about issues of youth development, community building, and politics. Already, I have been entrusted with writing proposals for funding and gathering information on ongoing projects. I not only feel useful, but like I am using my strengths and doing something that I am good at and enjoy. I am so excited to see what the next months of working there will bring, and what else I can contribute to the organizations mission.

Getting ready to walk into another day of NGO volunteering

Finally, like a few weeks ago, a book must be included in the highs of this week. For the past two weeks or so, I have been obsessively reading and listening to The Goldfinch on Kindle. From the first few sentences, I was hooked, captivated by the intricately crafted sentences and the hauntingly beautiful descriptions. Everything about the book is incredible, the plot, the characters, everything. The entire six hour bus ride to Mondulkiri and the entire bus ride back, I listening to the book, finding myself almost disappointed when the bus came to a stop and I was forced back into reality. This is one of those books that I cannot read fast enough, but I am dreading finishing because I can’t imagine not reading it everyday. I would highly recommend it to anyone. It will enthrall you, mesmerize you, make you laugh, make you cry; it is quite possibly one of the best books I have ever read.

The Lows

Fortunately, not many unfortunate things occurred these past two weeks. The hardest thing was saying goodbye to many of the volunteers. As I write this, new volunteers are arriving to the house, and only two people remain from the ones I originally started this journey with. It presents me with a hard realization, that in another few weeks time, everyone who was here when I first arrived will be gone. The prospect of having to make new friends feels daunting, especially with most volunteers only staying for short periods of time. While I would still love to make friends, the lifestyles of a short and long term volunteer are very different. Two or three weekers can afford to go out most nights, treat themselves to massages and nice dinners, while I must be budget conscious and more frequently opt for nights in. Hopefully a few people staying for longer periods of time will surface and we can become friends, otherwise I’ll be a bit of a lonely Travelsmith in the weeks to come.

The Emotions

For the majority of the past two weeks, I have felt content in the most beautiful way. I am settling into my routine here and getting used to the daily life. Cambodia, despite its extreme foreignness, feels like home in some ways. Being here feels right, and I am reminded almost each day some way or another, that I made the right decision in coming here.

Who wouldn’t want to be here?

Despite my contentedness, I have also been feeling a bit homesick lately. Cambodia is beginning to feel like a home, but I still long for the comforts of my Northern California residence. I miss my own bed, a clean floor, sweet potatoes, and watching TV shows at night with my family and a cup of tea. The idea of eighteen more weeks here is exciting, however at times, it feels a little daunting. But when these thoughts strike me, I try to do no more than simply acknowledge them, because I know they are few and fleeting. More than anything, I want to enjoy my time here. The chance to go home will always be there, but to explore and travel and, most importantly, be in CAMBODIA; this is an opportunity that exists in the now.

The Forthcoming

While I do not have many travel plans or exciting adventures in mind for the upcoming weeks, I am planning on changing up my day to day. How you ask? Next week I plan on purchasing a bike. Inspired by my friend Laura, and wanting to save the $25 a week a tuk tuk cost me, I want to try biking to my placement each day. Over the weekend, I tested it out, and while slightly terrifying trying to navigate through the heat and the traffic, the journey was simply and took about twenty minutes. With bikes costing around $40 for a nice one, it seems worth the investment. And why not give myself a chance to get some exercise to consume extra smoothies in return?

Think of all the smoothies I could buy with an extra $25 a week

Six weeks. Six weeks have passed. It seems short and long all at the same time. Being in Cambodia so far has been a blessing, an incredible gift, and I cannot wait to see what will come in the time I have left here. I am ready to continue to open myself to opportunities, to adventures, to learning. And moreover, I am ready to give more of myself and open myself up to everyone and everything that comes my way.

My heart pounded so hard I thought it would burst out of my chest. I could feel my palms growing cold with sweat, and my feet suddenly refused to move and remained anchored to the jungle floor. A wave of shock and disbelief washed over me, and I tried desperately to grasp hold of some remnant of reality in this new, dream-like world. Everyone around me seemed frozen in similar states of awe and incredulity, mouths gaping open with nothing but weak air pouring out; all staring in complete bewilderment at the creature in front of us: an elephant.

The way we all gawked and approached it doubtfully, it might as well be a dragon or some other fantastical animal standing no more than a few feet away. I felt a surge of uncertainty course throughout my body, almost tempting me to run away. Then just as suddenly as the elephant appeared, my childish excitement and love for these magnificent beings returned, and my face broke into a foolish and wide smile.

If someone told me that at some point in my lifetime I would be face to face with an elephant, I would not have doubted it. Since third grade, and possibly before though I don’t remember, I obsessed over them. Any classroom report or assignment, or even drawing, related to animals prompted me to spend hours researching elephants. I knew what they liked to eat, where they lived, the different breeds, life spans, and mannerisms. For years, my room collected dust from shelves and dressers covered in random elephant themed toys and nicknacks, courtesy of my obsessive and somewhat frivolous “elephant collection.” I spent hours practicing and perfecting my ability to micmic an elephant sound, priding myself on it and demonstrating it to my friends and classmates.

Elephants fascinated me. Why though, I am not sure. Though interesting, they were not a particularly cute animal that would attract the attention of an adolescent girl. Nor were they as popular as other exotic animals like cheetahs or dolphins; favorites among many of my classmates. However there was something about their habits that drew me in and caused me to read about them for hours. Their need for communication and closeness with each other, the debated ability to feel emotions, the myth that “an elephant never forgets;” there was something about them that captivated my attention.

When I learned about the opportunity to not just see, but really interact with an elephant in Mondulkiri, Cambodia, I knew I would go. For years I toyed with the idea of one day going on an African Safari to hopefully catch a glimpse of one. Now the chance to be face to face with an elephant was within reach, and I grasped for it. Carefully planning a trip to Mondulkiri for a weekend with some volunteer friends, I eagerly waited for my childhood dreams (obsessions) to come true.

However, on the bumpy and hellish six hour bus ride to Mondulkiri, a pit of anxiety grew and twisted in my stomach. I would be staying in the “jungle” for three days and two nights, sleeping in what essentially looked like a tree house cabin, and not in the glamorous way. There would be insects, a higher risk of malaria, and who knows what else. I nervously forced crackers and pieces of dried mango down my throat while these thoughts swam and festered in my mind. Seeing an elephant seemed like a dream come true at the time, but what would reality hold. After being friendlily teased that I would be the one to freak out and refuse to get near the elephant, doubt and horror consumed me. Could I really handle touching an elephant? Dogs too often frightened me; what the hell would I do with a ten thousand pound beast?

I pushed the thoughts out of my mind temporarily, drowning out the uneasy feeling in my stomach with sugary road snacks until we arrived in Mondulkiri. All too excited to get off the demon bus, Rebecca, Laura, Elena, and I began the short trek to our accommodation.

When we arrived, I instantly felt foolish for wondering how I would “survive” in the supposedly basic room. Our rooms were not as lavish as say the tree houses at Chewton Glen, but they looked incredible and made me feel almost like I was living a very weak enactment of The Swiss Family Robinsons. No doubt about it, I would not just survive but thrive in this beautiful bungalow. The entire atmosphere at the Nature Lodge, our accomodation, complimented our stay in Mondulkiri. It’s treehouse environment, secludedness, horses and cows roaming about the property; everything about it tied with closer with the nature and outdoors, a welcomed difference after the parties and chaos of weekends past.

But even after an afternoon of tranquility and a good night’s sleep, I awoke the next morning with my stomach in knots. I dressed, packed my bag, ate breakfast, and waited, a mess of nerves, for our guide to pick us up and begin our adventure.

I was happy and excited, no doubt about that, as we rode in the bed of a truck up a winding and dusty road. My face was full of smiles and laughs as we trekked deeper into the jungle to meet the founder of the project and learn more about what the Mondulkiri Project was all about. I listened intently and politely, as he explained his desires to prevent elephants from being forced in labor that broke their spirits and caused them to die young. I admired his determinism and innovation as he shared he also wanted to use the project to build tourism in Mondulkiri, to help the people there and bolster the local economy. However, even with all the new information, I still felt uneasy and worried; the fear that I would not be able to handle seeing an elephant in real life perverting my thoughts.

When we suddenly got up to leave and begin the trek down (deeper into the Heart of Darkness reminiscent jungle my worried mind associated it with) and I realized there was no turning back now, I swallowed hard and felt thankful that everyone was sweating from the heat, giving my extreme nervousness a disguise. Holding my portion of bananas, I waited anxiously. And then everything changed.

Upon seeing the elephant, all the fears and anxieties and uncertainties drained from my mind, forced out and replaced by feelings of sheer joy and enthusiasm. I smiled, feeling spellbound and enthralled as I timidly reached out my banana filled hand and carefully placed it into the elephants mouth. Nothing could possibly take away the amount of happiness I felt in that moment, as if it was a gift, my own personal treasure to cherish forever. The high of that moment continued to roll on, as I met a second and a third elephant, each one more friendly and eager to be fed than the last. There was no fear, no worry, as I knew the mannerisms of these creatures. They were typically gentle, not violent unless threatened, and utterly fantastic.

How could I have possibly let so much terror and worry consume my mind before? Now confident and beaming, the prospect of ever being frightened by these animals seemed unnecessarily foolish. Yes they were large and wild beasts, but they were not really beasts at all. They moved with a certain gracefulness despite their thumps, appearing more like whimsical, if giant, dancers rather than monstrous things clamoring about.

I felt like a character in a movie as we followed the elephants through the trees, and watched them drink water and eat bamboo. I pinched myself, sure I was dreaming, before stepping into a pool of water and watching as the elephants joined us, trunks outstretched for more bananas as we tried in vain to wash them. I was on cloud nine, in heaven, living out my wildest dreams!

When the time came to bid my new friends goodbye, I felt sad but grateful. I had been given the most wonderful gift of an experience, something that I would hold dear in my memories forever. As we rode back along the dusty rode, returning to our accomodation, I knew this would be a day that I, like an elephant, would never forget.

Though our time together came to close, the four weeks you gave me will always be unforgettable. From the moment I first met you, all eighty of you, running towards me on that fateful February day, I knew that this would be an incredible experience. Excited but intimidated, I waved and smiled and said my timid “sua-sdey,” and embraced all your sweaty hugs and sticky high fives. Though I agreed to teach the elementary school students without realizing what it meant, I know now it was meant to be.

For four weeks I raced between your four different classrooms, trying to balance four sets of four lessons plans following two different curriculums per week. I felt stressed and at my wits end, waking up early in the morning to research ESL teaching techniques and invent ways to develop the “Art through English” curriculum the school director sprung on me last minute. I panicked on how to make a lesson on the letter “I” last an hour, and banged my head against the wall trying to figure out how to make teaching personal pronouns interesting but also clear. You all watched me and struggled with me that first week, when I showed up wearing my best attempt at a brave face that we could both see through.

It took a while before things became easier. While they were never truly easy, they eventually grew less difficult. Those first few weeks, standing at the front of the class and looking at all of your adorable but expectant faces staring back at me made me want to cry and run back home. My voice rang out with a fake confidence, adopting the “don’t let them see you sweat” mindset my dad once taught me. But I was sweating, and you could see it. From both the heat and my nerves, my attempts to hide my initial discomfort were in vain.

Teaching was not completely foreign to me. I tutored in high school, teaching Spanish to elementary school students. I taught a computer skills class in university. I knew how to plan lessons, explain subjects, and at the very least, stand up at the front of a room and talk. But I was not ready for the other side of things. The constant fight for classroom management, the battle between being a likable but also realistic teacher, and the continual strain on my voice from constantly calling out “Keep Silent” and “Listen, copy down.” These were things I was not used to, and did not expect.

You all tested me. You tried my patience, my optimism, and my stubborn determinism. It wavered at times, unfortunately a lot of the time, but I would like to think it was not lost completely. For through all the struggles, at the end of the day, we made it through each lesson, and for how much I vented at the end of the day to blow off steam, I always came back in the morning.

We surprised each other, I think, with our out of the ordinary qualities. You were used to teachers that came and left after two weeks. You did not expect me to stick around, to stick to the curriculum, or to want to teach you English. My formal lesson plans and insistence on the occasional grammar exercises, rather than playing games all class for an hour, threw you off at first. But you shocked me as well. The initial fight you all put up over completing your assignments shocked me. I did not anticipate spending the majority of our time in class together reasoning with you all to complete the sentences, or having to explain why it did not matter when I refused to write “very good” and “100/100” every time after you copied down the word “nose” five times.

Discrepancies between our educational systems were not something I was foolish enough to think did not exists; however, I did not imagine that I would be stepping foot into anything quite like this. Explaining what a “spelling test” was, trying to teach the concept of answering a question rather than repeating it; it was hard for me to believe that your Cambodian English teachers had not covered this information with you all, especially if I was expected to teach it. My role as a volunteer English teacher was meant to be a “co-teacher,” a supplement to English you were already learning. Discovering that was not the case threw me through a loop, and forced me back to square one.

I was frustrated. Not just for me, but also for you. I cared about you all, and I wanted you to learn. What use were my lessons if you did not understand them?

But soon, despite my feelings of uselessness and my tears, and we found our rhythm. You learned English, and I learned how to teach it to you. All our initial stand offs faded away. When I walked into the classroom, we both smiled and took a deep breath, ready to get through the next hour together. It was no longer an impossible or daunting task, but our adventure to accomplish together.

In first grade we learned the alphabet, from letter “I” to letter “O.” We repeated after me, we traced, and we copied. We drew pictures of our families and animals, crowded around too small desks with melting crayons.

In second grade, we learned words. We took spelling tests, wrote new vocabulary, and tested our memories. We played hangman, learned about sports, and talked about the importance of honesty and not cheating.

In third, fourth, and fifth grade we learned about grammar. We struggled with personal pronouns and attempted to learn prepositional phrases. We sang songs about Princess Pat and camels, and laughed about Peter Piper and his patch of pickled peppers.

For all the stresses of our days, every hour ended in accomplishments and happy faces. It ended with hugs and smiles, and races to erase the whiteboard. It ended with staring contests, taking selfies, and playing patty cake.

It ended much too quickly. Four weeks flew by. But I know we are both going into beautiful and transformative phases of our lives. You all will continue to learn and grow so much. I saw what you are capable of, you have the ability to soak up information like sponges when you want to. If you let yourselves, you will truly go far with your English, and whatever else. For whatever it is worth, teacher believes in you.

Thank you my students, for everything you gave me. I tried to give you all of me, but in reality I gained all of you. Your smiles, your hugs, your love: I will never forget you, my eighty new little brothers and sisters and babies. For every day when you ended class with “I love you,” I was falling in love with all of you too.

How quickly time flies! I can hardly believe that four weeks, one whole month, have past since I first stepped foot in the Kingdom of Wonder. When I first arrived, I wanted to run home unapologetically. Now, the idea of leaving in five months seems nearly impossible.

After being in Cambodia for one month, I have settled into my routine here and grown comfortable with my new lifestyle. Realizing how much and how well I have grown here is empowering, and makes me feel like I am truly embracing my experience. I do not just feel like I am living an incredible life, but the life I was born to live. I am coming into myself, and transforming back into a person that I can identify with. When I look in the mirror, I recognize the person staring back at me. After months of feeling lost, I cannot stress how important and remarkable that feels.

But once again I have spent long enough boasting about my personal revelations, and so on to the weekly rewind. I wanted to try something a little different for this week’s post, in terms of format. Let me know in the comments below which format you prefer.

The Highs

This week provided many incredible moments. Being my last week teaching, I strove to make the most of my remaining time with my students. I sang songs in class every day, entertained them with games, but also kept to the curriculum and included English grammar activities amongst our fun. My students loved it. Every day when I walked into the classroom, they greeted me with smiles and eagerly asked, “Teacher, Alice the Camel?” or “Teacher, we sing about the moose?” And when I replied we would sing after the lesson, they smiled in agreement and for the most part, cooperated in completing their work in order to reap the benefits of singing at the end. While this did not work with every student, and some put up quite a fight with me, not wanting to work and only sing, at the end of the week, I look at this as an accomplishment. Overall, I successfully bonded with my students.

Eighty students, over four grade levels, aged six to fourteen: I made an impression on them. They liked me, I like them, and we had fun. And even more than that, I loved teaching and I was good at it. One day while going through my lesson plan, one of the Cambodian teachers approached me and said, “You are doing well. The students understand you – you are a good teacher.” I could not conceal my smiles. I felt proud and happy. It took me four weeks, but I finally hacked teaching, even if at the tail end.

It’s been an honor Happy School

Until next time Grade 4/5

My little ones from Grade 1

Delicious food also makes the cut for this week’s top moments. On Thursday, I went to Joma café with some friends and spent the evening eating cakes. Anyone who knows me is well aware of my obsession with plain white cake. I love it, and despite its simplicity, stubbornly believe it is the best cake flavor. So when I walked into Joma and my eyes found a slice of white cake calling my name, I am not ashamed to say I started to drool a little bit. There was no question that was the sweet treat I would be buying, and I happily savored every mouthful.

But the tasty treats did not end there. The following evening, finding ourselves activity less on a Friday night, we ventured out to Delikat Gelato. I shamelessly ordered a double scoop of gelato, and treated my taste buds to cheesecake and blueberry flavors, telling myself it was okay because I would workout the next day. Spoiler alert: I did not.

Slightly unrelated to the rest of the week’s events, another one of my favorite moments included finishing a book. For the past three weeks, I have slowly been making my way through The German Girl, a hauntingly beautiful story that details the lives of Jewish people in Berlin in 1939. The book was a page-turner, and I eagerly looked forward to reading it during my lunch break each afternoon and each night before I went to bed. Since I have wanted to get back into reading for pleasure for years now, having the time and motivation to do so feels incredible.

The week ended with a bang, creating a reenactment of the party night in Siem Reap. After volunteering at the restaurant Saturday morning, and spending that afternoon walking around Phnom Penh, my friends and I returned to the main part of the city in the evening to go out for drinks and dancing. I danced, I laughed, and I went home on tired feet.

The Lows

As wonderful as this week was, there were unfortunately some less than ideal moments sprinkled throughout it as well. For the most part I enjoyed teaching my students, but as I alluded to earlier, it was not all smooth sailing. Some of the students, interested only in playing and not working, refused to do their assignments and pouted instead of writing down simple sentences. They talked in class, shouted disruptive comments, and one student even made crude comments towards me. Taking a stand, I took matters into my own hands and decided to do some disciplining in class. I take my role as a teacher seriously, and while some of my fellow volunteer teachers rolled their eyes at me, I will not stand for students misbehaving in class. School is for learning and it is a privilege to be able to go to school. So many people lack the opportunity to receive an education, so being given the opportunity to receive one is something that should not be wasted; especially in Cambodia, where normally students must pay even to go to public school. When the country is riddled with poverty, this creates a large educational gap between the wealthy and the poor. The school I worked at provides free education to students from disadvantaged areas. They are receiving an education that would be impossible for them to obtain otherwise. I wanted to ensure that the students in my class that wanted to learn could; and this was not possible with the distracting behavior of unruly students.

So this happened…

Say what you will, I stand by it.

Saying goodbye to my students also put a slight damper on the week as well. While I made the most of the remaining time I had with them, it was still hard to say goodbye. While throughout the four weeks I struggled to find a balance and figure out how to teach four different grades, with students with different performance levels within each one, I still loved those little rascals. I will miss their smiles, their high fives, and their sweaty hugs. Receiving “goodbye” drawings and gifts from them on Friday took everything I had not to burst into tears in front of them. They are so kind and, for the most part, eager to learn. I wish them all the best in the future.

The Emotions

This week, as is probably evident by now, has been filled with conflicted emotions. I felt sad to leave my students, but happy for the time I spent with them. I felt guilty for wanting to switch volunteer placements, but also proud of myself for taking the initiative to ask for what I wanted.

When your student offers to be your guide home, you accept

Too often, I force myself to take on more guilt than is truly necessary, feeling the need to make myself suffer when it is not justified or constructive. This week, I had to remind myself that I came to Cambodia with the vision of working for a NGO, and exploring the opportunity to experience first hand the type of work I wanted to commit my life to. There is no reason to feel guilty about wanting to expedite my doing that. When I applied to volunteer in Cambodia, I agreed to teach English, first and foremost, because I was told that there was no room to volunteer at a NGO until May. Upon discovering that this information was not true when I arrived, I wanted to transition back into the experience I originally hoped for myself, especially since I was made to believe something that was not true.

I am truly grateful for the opportunity to teach English. Since teaching was something I wanted to try one day anyway, having the chance to do so was truly wonderful. And I learned so much from it. I learned that I do enjoy teaching, despite its challenges, and it is something I could see myself doing again in the future. However, I do not need to feel guilty for wanting to stop teaching and instead do something that I have dreamed of doing. I spent the majority of my undergraduate years hoping and praying I would be able to use my International Relations degree to make a difference in the world and work abroad for an organization striving to do that as well. And now I have the opportunity to do so.

A bit of anxiety also crept its way into this week. Having always had a difficult time with change, I worried about my transition into working for the NGO. I knew I wanted to experience it, but worried it may not end up being what I hoped it would be like. At the end of the day, I reminded myself to keep an open mind. I am smart, competent, and hard working. Working in these types of organizations is not new to me. I know how to take initiative, do research, and ask for projects. Everything would be fine if I simply let myself believe it would be.

But mostly this week, I felt gratified. It took me four weeks to transform back into a person I recognized and loved. Four weeks, after months of despair, and almost a year of uncertainty. Returning to myself brought me the greatest satisfaction and confidence and love, and it is something I did. I initiated my metamorphosis. While I do not think it is totally complete yet, as I hope to continue to learn and grow, the stage I am at right now is brining me all kinds of joy.

The Forthcoming

Going into my fifth week in the Kingdom of Wonder, many new and exciting things are on the horizon. As I mentioned, I am starting a new volunteer placement where I will be at a local Cambodian NGO called Youth Council of Cambodia, or YCC. They strive to empower Cambodian youth through encouraging them to participate in the strengthening of democracy, human rights, and good governance of Cambodia for peaceful and sustainable development. I am excited to start working there, and to learn more about these issues in Cambodia and become part of their movement of change.

At the end of the week, I will also be once again venturing out of Phnom Penh. Some friends and I are planning on making our way to the Mondulkiri province, and participating in the Mondulkiri Project, which strives to protect forests for elephants and wildlife. We will trek through the jungles, swim with elephants, and wash them, being about these magnificent creatures while they are free from the unfortunate and often abusive tourist activities they were rescued from.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is my week in a nutshell. A whirlwind of emotions, a plethora of self-realizations and feelings of personal empowerment: one month in Cambodia has treated me well, who knows what the remaining five will bring.

If I did not see anything else in Cambodia, one thing I knew I needed to check off my list was Angkor Wat and visiting the other temples of Siem Reap.

As I mentioned in my previous weekly rewind, this past weekend I went on a temple hopping adventure. I explored not only the world’s largest religious monument, but also smaller ancient ruins that made me feel like Indiana Jones.

Everything started Friday night, when Laura, Rebecca, three other new volunteers, and I crammed into a tuk tuk to make it to the bus station. We chose to ride a night bus to Siem Reap, in order to arrive in time to see the sun rise over Angkor Wat on Saturday.

If you know me, you know that sleep is something I struggle with. Insomnia, not being able to sleep in any bed other than my own, and waking up to little noises plagued many of my nights over the past few years. Hence the notion of sleeping, the sole sleep my body would receive before a full day out, on a six hour bus ride for the evening terrified me. And I shared this fact, over and over again. I feel sorry for my poor friends who had to listen to my paranoia and whining.

When we finally reached the bus station and I nervously entered the Giant Ibis bus, a sea of beds greeted me. For a moment this provided me with some solace, but it soon ended when the reminder of a moving bus filled my mind. Growing quieter by the minute from worry, I climbed into my bed, popped a sleeping pill into my mouth, and prayed that soon I would fall asleep.

In the end I slept, but also woke up several times during the night from the bumpy roads, honking horns, and chit chat of other discourteous bus passengers. When we arrived in Siem Reap around 5 o’clock in the morning, I felt tired, but fine, and began mentally preparing myself for a long day.

Originally, Laura and I planned to visit the temples with our friend Annika, who volunteered with us in Phnom Penh but had now transferred to a placement in Siem Reap, while Rebecca stayed back at our hotel, having already visited them a few years prior. Annika would meet us at the bus station in the wee hours of the morning, and we would rush off to the temples to “catch the sunrise.”

However, dawn was here and Annika was not. Laura, Rebecca, and I desperately tried to message and call Annika but to no avail. Flustered and confused, we felt at a loss of what to do. We could not go to the temples without her, but surely we would miss the sunrise if we did not leave now? We could try and see if she slept in later at the volunteer house, but what if she was in transit here? Our minds were full of questions.

Being better friends than stereotypical tourists we immediately ruled out jetting off to Angkor Wat without her; our whole plan was to do this temple excursion together. However, that did not solve the problem of how to find her.

Then like a miracle, one of the IVHQ volunteer coordinator’s appeared. He approached us and explained that Annika was asleep at the volunteer house and he was unable to wake her up despite knowing she intended to meet us here – he had driven to the bus station with the tuk tuk originally arranged to pick us up with her. At first I felt a bit skeptical of this man, but as the story was so specific and detailed I reasoned that surely he was not lying. Thanking him, we climbed into the tuk tuk and asked to be taken back to the volunteer house to collect our sleepy friend.

When we arrived, Rebecca went with the coordinator to retrieve Annika: having been her roommate before, she knew how to wake her up. About ten minutes, Rebecca reappeared with our very exhausted Estonian friend. Covered in pink paint, Annika apologetically recounted her previous evening, which included drinks and dancing. Now, everything made sense.

With the now beginning to shine, we realized that missing the infamous sunrise over Angkor Wat was not a tragedy this time – the sky was so cloudy, no beautiful watercolor of pink, orange, and red sun rays shone through it. Our day started with a misadventure, but one that became a blessing in disguise. Since we already missed the sunrise, we decided to stop at our hotel and drop off our bags before taking on a day of walking and sweating.

The following nine-hours of my life were unforgettable. Eight temples, nine hours, over twenty thousand steps on my pedometer, exploring the temples of Siem Reap was a truly incredible experience.

While most people speak only of Angkor Wat, I found the smaller temples to be even more extraordinary. They were less crowded, more unfamiliar, and lent an eerie ancientness that transported me back in time.

The majority of Cambodia is Buddhist. Monks roam the streets in their orange colored robes and Buddhist pagodas riddle the streets. However, the temples in Siem Reap represent the country’s past with Hinduism. Angkor Wat was constructed in dedication to the Hindu god Vishnu. The surrounding temples were also built under declaration of various Hindu practicing Khmer Kings. As a result, not only is the architecture of the temples unique from other religious sites in Cambodia, but their history is especially exceptional as well.

I reveled in the history and beauty of the temples, while simultaneously sweating out my body weight with each additional step. I climbed up steps, received a blessing from a monk, and took more photos than I ever dreamed I would.

I wish that I could write more about the temples, and provide some inspiring or insightful words that could truly relate their magnificence. However as I am at a loss for words, I hope pictures will make up for it. If you ever find yourself in a position where you have the ability to play pretend as “Indiana Jones” and roam about these wonders, then know it is worth every single penny.

After nine hours, Laura, Annika, and I said farewell to the temples and returned to the hotel to shower off our sweaty adventure. We freshened up, made some attempts to feel pretty, and then returned to the outside world for dinner and drinks.

Believe it or not, this was before the alcohol

Drinks began with margaritas with our Mexican feast at dinner. Then transformed into a few shots at a tuk tuk bar. Soon it spiraled into drinking out of buckets at clubs. Before I knew it I found myself doing the limbo to try and win a free shot, and covering my body in pink paint at a club appropriately named “Yolo.”

But do not fret; if you know me, you know I stopped drinking after my first drinks at dinner, happily, and cheaply, intoxicated for the remainder of the evening. Whoever said you should build up your alcohol tolerance in order to have a good time clearly underestimated my ability to have fun. A self proclaimed one drink wonder; I had the time of my life while also waking up feeling fresh as a daisy the next morning.

After another night with very little sleep, our final day in Siem Reap was spent wandering around down cute streets, having girl talk, and eating lots and lots of ice cream.

My weekend in Siem Reap allowed me to experience the side of Cambodia I dreamed about before I came here. Siem Reap is small, green, and full of history. Saying goodbye to this beautiful place was more difficult than I thought, but with another five months of my time in Cambodia left, hopefully I will find myself there once again.

Another week, another blog post. I can hardly believe that I have been in the Kingdom of Wonder for three weeks now. Considering how rocky this adventure began, I am proud, in a slightly arrogant way, of my transformed perspective. Not only do I now have the emotional strength to handle Phnom Penh’s bustling lifestyle, but I am also starting to recognize the beginning of another personal metamorphosis.

Since coming to Cambodia, I have been tested. I have been stressed, I have cried, I have felt depressed, doubtful, and anxious. But I have also learned how to relax, how to embrace the chaos, and how to go with the flow.

I walk on dusty floors, despite being somewhat of a clean freak back at home. I get dressed without being able to see my outfit, even though at home I would change four times before leaving the house. I change my class lessons within seconds if I realize things are not going smoothly, when back at home even the thought of altering some carefully crafted plan would send me into a bumbling burrito of stress.

Cambodia is teaching me how to how to be more easy going. And while I may not exude it in a way that strikes a stranger as happy-go-lucky, I know that in comparison to my usual tightly wound self, I feel like an easy, breezy, beautiful cover girl (America’s Next Top Model anyone?).

But enough rambling of self transformation and personal growth… On to the weekly rewind…

Sunday

On Sunday I spent the day relaxing. The morning began with some personal drama, but was quickly remedied with Nutella toast for breakfast followed by a day at the pool. My friends and I spent the afternoon lounging in the water, soaking up the sun while simultaneously trying to avoid the heat, chit chatting the whole way through.

After a few hours of feeling like I was on vacation, we packed up our poolside belongings and set out to find lunch. We walked around in what felt like circles for a bit, but eventually found our way to a restaurant called Root’s Burgers. I consumed the best burger I have had in Cambodia yet, though I am surprised to realize just how many different times I have gone out for western food on the weekends in the three weeks I have been here. Then again, when the week is full of rice and vegetables, enjoying a meal out twice a week is hardly over indulgence.

With full and happy bellies, we continued on to the movie theater, where we opted to have a very girly and embarrassing evening watching “50 Shades Darker.” I attended the movie solely to stare at Jamie Dornan, one of my longtime celebrity crushes, and laugh at the unfortunately horrible acting the movie promised. It delivered. I spent the movie blushing and laughing, and it was completely worth the $3 I paid to get into the movie theater.

Happy selfies with my lovely friends

The day up to this point had been full of carefree fun, but ended with an unfortunate event. On the tuk tuk journey back home, one of the girls got her bag snatched. It happened so quickly, and left us all terrified and clutching our own bags for dear life. Motorbike theft in Phnom Penh is real. I don’t mean to discourage anyone from coming to the city. To paraphrase the words of another travel blogger who wrote about a similar experience, you are safe, but your bag may not be.

Monday

After another fun filled weekend and a sad goodbye to the volunteers I first arrived with, going back to work on Monday felt especially hard. I went in alone on Monday morning, since the new group of volunteers would not be joining me until the next day. Since I ended the previous week feeling uneasy and wanting to change my placement, the classroom struggles typical of a Monday did not go over well with me. My students refused to listen and fought me every step of the lessons. I felt a bit defeated by the end of the day, but I quickly jumped out of my slump around dinnertime.

They look so cute when they refuse to do their work

With new volunteers meant a welcome dinner; one of the most delicious dinner’s we get to consume at the volunteer house. All us veteran volunteers waited like vultures around the table as the food came out, and then swarmed, filling our plates with noodles, french fries, and other tasty dishes. I ate my sorrows from the day, and at the end of it my full and happy belly gave me the confidence to take on whatever challenges Tuesday’s classes would throw me.

Tuesday

On Tuesday two new volunteers, an older American couple from Georgia, joined me at my placement. I spent the morning walk briefing them about what I knew about the school and what they should expect.

Little did I know they would be told an entirely new set of information than what I had been given during my introduction meeting. While the last round of new volunteers at the Happy School (Lauren, Paul, and I) had been told we must each teach a separate class and had set schedules and curriculums, the new volunteers were told they could teach together if they wanted and could have more flexibility with their hours for the days… And the most dramatic difference of all, that they could teach in whatever manner worked for them.

I had been given a curriculum, set classroom times, and four different grades to myself. Now I was learning that others not only got to teach less hours, but teach together and alter the curriculum? I felt quite angry and very bitter about the situation. Even though I love my students, I would love the luxury of having a teaching partner a lot more. Sure with another person means more coordination and planning, but with how hectic and overwhelming my classes can be, having another person just to back me up when I share stories about what happened in class (and then get stares that make me think that people think I am a controlling child hater) would be incredible.

Wednesday

Wednesday provided the same feelings as the previous days. I loved teaching, I love my students, but that does not mean that I enjoy every moment of either.

However I did have a particularly interesting hour with my first grade class. On Wednesdays, my first grade class deviates from our normal lesson plan of learning a letter and instead we explore “Art in English.” That day we were learning body parts. I drew a person on the board, and spent around twenty minutes labeling “head, shoulders, knees, toes, eyes, ears, mouth, and nose,” attempting to drill in the words with the students so we could then sing the song. I felt like a proud mama when they picked it up quickly, and we soon progressed from singing the song to getting on with the “art” portion of class: drawing themselves and labeling the body parts.

Diligently writing the letter “M”

I passed out pieces of colored paper to each student, and let them each pick out three colored crayons to fashion their masterpieces with. I crammed myself into a tiny plastic chair, and humored my students as I sat with them and also created my own picture. For fifteen minutes, I drew and also praised and marked stars the work of my very cheerful and excited students.

In the last five minutes of class, one of my students brought me her drawing and I almost spit out the water I was drinking. She had very carefully drawn a man, already a red flag since I had asked them to draw themselves… And in her drawing, she had included a very colorful and anatomically correct body male body part. I fought to maintain my composure, and it took all the strength I had to look at her beaming face and smile while marking a star on her drawing. Kids do the darndest things…

Thursday

On Thursday I had my first day teaching where I genuinely enjoyed myself. I spent the morning singing songs with my students, teaching them my old summer camp favorites like “There was a Great Big Moose,” “Baby Shark” and “Alice the Camel.” We laughed, we sang, and I nearly lost my voice. I finally felt like I had hacked teaching.

However, on Thursday I also learned that my previous week’s request to switch placements had been granted. Starting March 6th, I would be moved to volunteering at a local NGO called YCC. Upon hearing the news, I felt instantly excited, but also a bit guilty. I loved my students, and I felt like I was finally getting through to them. But I also really wanted to transition into working what originally inspired my move to Cambodia. By the time I change, I will have spent a month teaching, and gotten a solid taste for what it was like. While I plan on writing a full reflective post on it later, I will say now that I am so thankful for the time I spent teaching. It taught me so much about myself, and forced me to find strengths I did not know I had.

Thursday’s good news did not end there; a group of volunteers also went out to Indian food as a goodbye dinner to some friends leaving over the weekend. While the dinner’s reminder that the time with some of my friends was running out was sad, the Chicken Tikka Masala and Naan I ordered was delicious, and my sorrows were quickly drowned in spicy Indian goodness.

Friday

On Friday I spent the majority of the morning teaching the school director how to use crowd funding websites, and trying to contain my amusement at his amazement that such a thing existed.

Fast forward several hours and a packed backpack later, and myself, Rebecca, Laura, and three of the new volunteers, crammed into a tuk tuk to make our way to the Giant Ibis bus station.

Yes, after three weeks this Travelsmith would finally be venturing outside of Phnom Penh. Earlier in the week, we had booked a night bus to take us to Siem Reap for a weekend of temple hopping and hotel luxuries. I will admit, I was very nervous about going to Siem Reap. From trying to sleep on the night bus to figuring out how I would survive a day of sight seeing with my backpack in tow, I was a bundle of nerves. While I plan on writing a full post about Siem Reap, the temples, and the night bus journey later, I will say for now that they are a great invention and a cheap way to travel… but also one I would prefer to avoid in the future.

Saturday

So as not to give away too much details about my fun filled weekend, which will be revealed in a blog post of their own later this week, I will simply say the following about Saturday: twenty thousand steps, nachos, pink paint and late night dancing.

It was my favorite day and night in Cambodia so far.

Sunday

Despite my very action packed Saturday, I woke up Sunday feeling alive and well. I enjoyed a complimentary breakfast, an afternoon by the pool, and a day exploring Siem Reap with Laura, Rebecca, and Annika. By the end of the day my feet were tired and my belly was full of gelato – a perfect way to end the weekend.

However the end of the weekend also meant a final goodbye to my Estonian friend Annika. I said goodbye feeling sad, as her quirky and vibrant personality had brought me so much laugher and joy in the past three weeks, but also hopeful that I would see her again in Europe one day.

Rebecca, Laura, and I then found our way to the bus station to spend another night in transit. Saying goodbye to Siem Reap was difficult, not just because it meant going back to the everyday routine of our volunteer placements, but because I really enjoyed the city’s atmosphere. Siem Reap looked like what I originally imagined Cambodia would be like, and getting to experience that feeling felt truly incredible. While I do like Phnom Penh, I must say I definitely would like to return to Siem Reap again during my time here.

And there ends another week in the life of my Cambodian adventure. These three weeks have flown by, and I am beginning to feel like my time here is slipping through my fingertips. Recognizing this feeling is forcing me to be present, to say “yes”, and enjoy all the beautiful moments and friendships that Cambodia is offering. As I mentioned earlier in this post, Cambodia is transforming me, and I am more than ready to sit back, relax, and enjoy completing the metamorphosis of self that my remaining 21 weeks will bring.